


So Sick

by t_dragon



Series: T-Dragon's Drabbles Collection [4]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 11:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12630579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_dragon/pseuds/t_dragon
Summary: And I'm so sick of love songs, so tired of tears. So done with wishing you were still here...





	So Sick

_  ‘Hello, this is Kyungsoo’s and-' _

_  ‘-Jongin’s voice mail! We’re not home right now-’ _

_  ‘-But leave a message after the beep!’ _

 

 He stood frozen inside of the door, having arrived just as the answering machine picked up. Fresh wounds clawed themselves into his heart every time he heard it, but he was still not able to change the message.

 It was the only way he could hear that voice, after all.

 ‘ _ Hey, it’s me, call me when you come home. And you really need to change that voice message. I know you miss him, but it’s been months. It’s not healthy. _ ’

 It was true, it was not healthy. But he did not care about healthy anymore. Had not done that for a few months now. Not since…

 But he shook his head, not wanting to think of that anymore. It still hurt so much.

 Sighing, he dropped his bag next to the door, taking of his shoes and hanging up his jacket. He knew he should call back, but he just needed a moment to breathe first.

 Or try to breathe. Breathing was hard when it felt like you were missing a large piece of your chest, nothing but an aching hole in the middle of it.

 Heading towards the bedroom, he stripped out of the confining suit he was forced to wear on a daily basis. Not caring if it got wrinkled, he simply threw it on the bed - a bed that was half made, half mess. One side mostly untouched, just missing a pillow. A pillow he had spent too many nights crying into, inhaling that familiar scent that was nowadays barely there anymore. Just a faint whiff that he sometimes almost could no longer smell.

 Walking into the large bathroom, he threw his underwear into the overflowing basket, reminding himself yet again that he really needed to do the laundry, before stepping into the shower. At first, the water was cold, like painful icy needles pricking his skin, but then it turned warmer, until it was almost scorching.

 It was a long time since he had learned to shower in too hot water, and now it seemed impossible to unlearn it. Maybe part of it was because he was still  _ hoping _ . Hoping he would take burning showers with someone else again.

 Tilting his head down, he let the water run through his hair and across the face, etching burning tracks into his skin and matching the burning in his eyes. He was tired of crying, but beneath the water jet, he could at least pretend that it was not tears that were running down his cheeks.

 Spending way too long in the shower, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders that he knew would not go away, he finally turned the water off. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he wiped the steam off of the mirror, before taking a look at himself.

 He had lost some weight lately, making his face look too sharp, and the bags beneath his eyes even darker. His hair was getting too long as well, and he needed to cut it. Dragging a hand through the dark tresses, a glimmer caught his eyes.

 It was a silver ring, wrapped around his left ring finger. He probably should have taken it off long ago, but he was still not ready to move on, and it kept others away. They thought he was taken, and in a way, he still was.

 His heart still belonged to someone else. And he wondered if it would ever be free of that person.

 

 Dinner was a quiet affair, as it had been for a while now. Ready-made food, since cooking was not the same anymore. Home-cooked food prepared together had been the standard for several years.

 Until everything changed.

 Lying in bed a while later, he realized that he had still not called back. But he really did not feel like talking to anyone - he was tired. So, so very tired. He always was nowadays. A deep, bone-aching exhaustion that never left him alone. Along with the feeling of loneliness that never ceased, no matter how many people were around.

 

 He was sitting on the sofa, head in his hands, moving boxes all around him. Memories, packed away. For the first time in the last few months, he had finally found the strength to do this, to try to rid himself of it all, but now here he was, despair clutching his heart so firmly he could barely breathe.

 If he had known it would be this painful, he would never have done it.

 But he knew it was time to move on. And even if the boxes might never be collected by their rightful owner, it would still be a good thing for him.

 Out of sight, out of mind, right?

 Dragging in a shaky breath, he leaned back in the sofa, trying to distract himself with the song playing on the radio.

 But that was a mistake. He should have learned by now.

 The radio was playing a love song. After all, they were the most popular songs - everybody loved listening to love songs. Except for him. Because love songs reminded him too much of what he had had, and then lost.

 What was still lost.

 Yet, he did not turn off the radio. No, he merely closed his eyes and let the tears sneak down his cheeks, too tired to do something, anything, except for cry.

 

 He was annoyed today. Feeling more than he usually did. Somehow, everyone he knew had decided to plague him the entire day, and it was so  _ frustrating _ ! Why could they just not leave him alone? That was all he wanted, to be left alone! Not asked about stupid things and dragged around!

 No, he did not feel like going out to take a drink; no, he did not feel like going to dinner; no, he did not feel like having a movie night - he just  _ wanted to be alone _ .

 Dragging a hand through his hair in agitation, he pulled out his phone and froze.

 There was a notification on it. A notification that he had not seen, having been so busy all day, and suddenly, it all made sense.

_ Ah. So it’s today. _

 Numbness spread through his veins as he dropped the phone on the counter, unable to care about the too-hard impact. There was no longer any air in his lungs, but that was okay. He could not feel anything anyway.

 Stumbling backwards, his back hit the wall, and he slid down it. Something felt wet on his cheeks, but he did not care enough to see what it was. Choked sobs echoed around him, but he did not know where they came from. Did not care enough to find out, either.

 His body broke down, whilst his mind detachedly just floated away.

 And the screen of the phone was still showing the notification, still turned on.

_ ‘Year Anniversary!’ _

 Their seventh, if it had still been them. But they no longer were, and so there were no more anniversaries. He had just forgotten to change the calendar.

 

 Another love song was playing on the radio. That horrible one, so filled with emotions that you just knew that it was written by the artist with his honest feelings for his wide. A song that reminded him of all of the old memories, that made him want to crawl into his bed, and never come out again.

 A song that had forced him to disappear into the bathroom to try to swallow down his tears, not wanting the others see. They knew, of course, of what had happened, and he hated how they looked at him in pity, even more so whenever this song was playing.

 But today, something was different. The aching was still there, just as strong and deep in his chest, but it was somehow easier to bear. As if he had gotten stronger. And instead of making him want to cry, it merely made him sigh.

 Then he did something he had not managed to do before.

 He turned the radio off.

 Cutting the song off.

 And he did not know who was more surprised - his colleagues, or himself.

 Was this it, then? Was he finally starting to let go?

 His entire body revolted against that thought, because he did not  _ want _ to let go.

 But at the same time…

 

 

 Maybe this was for the best?

**Author's Note:**

> Another little drabble, this one inspired by So Sick by Ne-Yo~ One of the best heartbreak songs I know, I actually kind of love it... Listened to it and just got an urge to write, so what did I do? Wrote it, of course! But, uh, yeah, this is vaguely written, no decided POV, so it could be either Kyungsoo or Jongin. It's all up to you!


End file.
